Deleted Scenes from The Hobbit: Camping With Dwarves
by Zoop
Summary: <html><head></head>Prompt for the Hobbit Reverse Big Bang on Tumblr. Short scenes that Bilbo didn't include in "There and Back Again." Cover by Zoop.</html>
1. The Prancing Pony Inn, Bree-town

**The Prancing Pony Inn, Bree-town**

In a room at the Pony, there sulked a Hobbit. Not a cluttered room by any means, nor was it spare of the sort of furnishings one might expect in a large, bustling town such as Bree. It was made for Hobbit-folk, and from low ceiling to round windows, Bilbo Baggins found it comfortable.

But if the hints of his travel companions were to be believed, this was the last spot of comfort he was destined to have on this adventure. He'd been swayed by their singing, of the promise of wonders in the world that he could barely imagine, and would never see for himself if he did not follow them. Now he almost wished he'd ignored their comments, had ignored the Tookish urgings to go forth and explore, hadn't listened when his heart said, _Prove them wrong_.

Bilbo's heart, after all, didn't follow good sense.

What he wouldn't give to be still 'bobbing on the mat,' for at least then he would be guaranteed a warm bed and a proper meal, things the Dwarves with whom he travelled swore could not be found beyond this inn. He'd supped the night before on what the innkeeper assured him was 'good Hobbit-fare'; he should have called it '_Bree-town_ Hobbit fare,' for the potatoes were undercooked, the bread was too hard, the chicken was too dry... Not fit for Shire Hobbits, that was certain. Bilbo shuddered to imagine what a Bree-town Hobbit's pantry might look like.

As he waited for the thirteen Dwarves and Gandalf to fetch him for their morning departure, the Hobbit once more rearranged the provisions in his pack. The wizard had been kind enough to fetch his handkerchiefs and pipe when Bilbo ran pell-mell out of Bag End a week ago, but he'd run out of the tobacco swiftly. The party's arrival the day before may have caused a bit of a stir among the Bree-town folk, but Bilbo was not distracted from his own personal mission. Thanks to the better-funded Dwarves, he had a generous supply of pipeweed to get him through this adventure business. He only hoped it was not of the same quality as the Prancing Pony's 'Hobbit fare.'


	2. Amon Sûl, the Lone-lands

**Amon Sûl, the Lone-lands**

_Tea and cakes, warm summer breezes through the front windows..._

The lands past Bree were grim indeed, and with the absence of a warm hearth and liquid cheer, quite a trial for poor Bilbo. The Dwarves marched in silence mostly, barely passing a word among themselves much less with the Hobbit trudging along behind. He'd thought they would at least regale him with a good marching song, given how easily they brought forth their instruments before. Thorin only spoke when camping, but only to order the others about. Oin or Gloin, best suited to the task, were frequently engaged in lighting the cookfire, while the others, including Bilbo, fetched sticks to feed it. Apart from grumbling to themselves, few said a word.

It was out of need for something to get his mind off his troubles that Bilbo asked Gandalf for a tale of these lands, in particular the ruins looming above them upon a tall hill. In the darkness, the fallen ramparts appeared as giant's teeth, all crooked and sharp against the starry sky. He dared not venture into them, fearing some lingering evil lurked in the shadows.

Gandalf carefully filled and lit his pipe, thinking of a good tale for the party to pass the time. Eventually, he smiled, and eyes twinkling with knowing mirth, he began.

"In days long past, this land was one kingdom. Mighty were its rulers, yet kind. Men, they were, and Elf-friends as well. The kings held a great treasure to their breast – a _palant__í__r_, one of the fabled Seeing Stones – and used it to speak over great distances to their allies in the West and East. Many coveted this stone, and so it was well-protected while the good kings reigned. Alas, mortal Men must pass from the world in their time, and so it was that the king died, and left his crown, and the _palant__í__r_, to his eldest son, as was tradition.

"The new king's two brothers, jealous of his good fortune, sought to take the stone for their own. They strove against their brother, and their folk did also, until the land was splintered into three kingdoms. The rightful king placed the _palant__í__r_ in the tower that now lies in ruins above us, for it is here at this hill that all three kingdoms meet. He guarded his lands and his people against his haughty brothers for many years, yet asked no help of his forefathers' friends, the Elves."

Gandalf paused to puff his pipe and send a smoke ring up into the sky. It seemed to circled the moon until a stray breath of wind came. The Dwarves exchanged expectant looks, for the wizard did not seem inclined to continue. Shifting uncomfortably where he'd settled for the night and only half listening, Bilbo lamented not appreciating the bed in the Prancing Pony when he'd had it, for now he could not seem to find a spot that did not have a rock or a root in it.

"How did the tower come to fall?" Dori finally asked, speaking for them all.

Smiling and nodding slightly, Gandalf drew once more on his pipe before continuing. "The brothers were not the only ones who desired the _palant__í__r_," he went on, his voice grim. "A powerful being known only as the Witch-king also sought to possess this treasure, and so began to work his evil will upon the weaker brothers. He sowed discord and contempt, a task made easier by their own distrust of one another. Wars they had fought among themselves without the Witch-king's urgings, and so his whispered deceits went unchallenged. They brought war to the rightful king once more, and as they battled, the Witch-king chose his moment to strike.

"One after the other, the two kingdoms fell before the Witch-king's mighty host. The tower upon the hill was laid under siege, and finally razed. The rightful king, in defense of his folk, fell upon the field of battle, and all seemed lost."

"What of the _palant__í__r_?" Thorin pressed when the wizard paused once more. "Was it not in that tower? Did it fall into the Witch-king's hands?"

Gandalf's bushy brows lifted slightly, as though he found the question interesting, but made no comment. "An unexpected thing happened. The king had a son barely growing his first beard, who turned the tide. The son led his folk and a host of Elves against the Witch-king and prevailed. He proved himself a strong and wise leader, for he not only saved his people, but he sought and received aid from friends his father had forgotten."

Distracted from his struggles against pebbles, Bilbo looked intently at Gandalf's face, and wondered if there might not be a lesson in that tale.


End file.
